avy shower the night before and the main
highways were in excellent condition, though a trifle muddy in spots. Of
course some of the less-used country roads would be well-nigh
impassable.

It was while crossing one of these roads, on a hard macadam highway,
that the girls and boys saw, stuck in the mud of the poorer path, a
peddler's wagon. The bony horse was doing its best to move the vehicle,
which had sunk down in a hole, one wheel being imbedded in the mud to
the hub.

"Why, it's that hair-tonic man!" exclaimed Mollie, as she slowed down to
avoid a rut in the road.

"No, his wagon is all painted with gaudy signs," said Betty. "That's a
boy driving that wagon. Why--why!" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of
the lad, "it's the same boy who took home the little lost girl for
us--the same one who told us about the man with the five hundred dollar
bill. It's Jimmie Martin!"

CHAPTER IX

IN SHADOW VALLEY

The boy, who was endeavoring--and by gentle urging, be it said to his
credit--to get the horse to pull the wagon out of the mud-hole, looked
up on hearing his name spoken by Betty. At first he did not recognize
the girls, and his face plainly showed this.

"Don't you know us?" asked Mollie, as she brought her car to a stop.

The boy shook his head. Then, as he looked from face to face, a light
came over his own.

"Oh, yes!" he cried. "You found the little lost child when you were on
your walking tour, and turned her over to me."

"Exactly," agreed Betty. "But you seem to be in trouble, Jimmie," for
the bony horse had given over the attempt to move the mired wagon and
was patiently resting between the shafts, awaiting developments.

"I am in trouble," Jimmie admitted, frankly.

"Have you given up your business, and are you working for some one
else?" Grace wanted to know. "Why have you the wagon? The last time you
carried your own pack."

"I'm still my own boss," he replied, with a smile. "I am trying for a
larger trade, that's all. I got the chance to buy this outfit cheap, and
I took it. I guess I got it too cheap," he added, ruefully, "for this
horse isn't strong enough to pull me out of this mud-hole. I shouldn't
have come this way."

He looked down at the soft, miry road. The one wheel seemed to be
sinking deeper and deeper into the clay, and the others showed a
propensity to follow its example.

"Where did you come from?" asked Will, whose sister had explained to him
and the other boys